


In His Grasp

by valda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dysfunctional Relationships, Hand Feeding, Humor, M/M, Oblivious, Pining, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Power Imbalance, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, canon-typical abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:15:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22530817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: Kylo Ren doesn't understand why General Hux is shirking his duty over a simple injury. When he tries to find out, though, he learns more than he bargained for...about the general, and about himself.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 33
Kudos: 249





	In His Grasp

**Author's Note:**

  * For [demideerling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/demideerling/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [В его власти](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594714) by [fandom SW IX - Duel of the Fates 2020 (Our_Own_Star_Wars)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Our_Own_Star_Wars/pseuds/fandom%20SW%20IX%20-%20Duel%20of%20the%20Fates%202020), [Lenuchka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenuchka/pseuds/Lenuchka)



> Originally posted as a twitfic [here](https://twitter.com/coselia/status/1113092277335977984); cleaned up and fleshed out a bit for AO3. Thanks for prompting this, Demi! Content warning regarding the "Canon-Typical Abuse" tag at the end.

They’re planetside, putting down rebel insurgents, when it happens.

It’s dark and there’s smoke and laser fire everywhere. Their troops are pressing forward, deep into the rathole the traitors have dug for themselves below the rocky surface of this cold, forgotten world. Their victory is at hand; it’s only a matter of time.

Kylo is using the Force to hurl one terrorist into another terrorist when Hux suddenly collapses in front of him. It takes a moment for Kylo to notice that the general isn’t getting back up. He’s incredulous, and then he’s angry, because he’s thrown Hux around lots of times, and Hux has always gotten back up. Why should this be any different? Kylo blocks several blaster bolts with his lightsaber, freezes a few more, opens a path for his stormtroopers to move in. All the while, Hux lies motionless at his feet.

This is getting ridiculous. Kylo nudges Hux with the toe of his boot. “Get up.”

Hux lets out a groan and starts to shift, working to push off the ground. Finally. Kylo watches him struggle. There’s blood everywhere, all over him and all over the rocky ground. After a long moment of flopping like a fish, Hux slumps back down.

Someone calls for medical, and three droids report immediately. “He’s fine,” Kylo snaps. He’s always fine. He’s just being lazy.

The medical droids hover nervously. Hux still doesn’t move. Finally Kylo glares at the droids. “Get him out of my sight,” he spits.

Kylo and his troops clean up the mess, rout the rebels, and return to the _Finalizer_ victorious. Everything went as planned, no thanks to General Hux, who couldn’t even be bothered to complete the mission.

Hux doesn’t show up on the bridge the next day, or the next. Kylo is incensed. This isn’t how things are supposed to be. How dare Hux shirk his responsibilities? Kylo refuses to bother looking for him. He’s not _that_ important. Kylo can do just fine without him.

On the third day, another general steps in, sent by High Command. The man is obsessed with the Empire and the old ways and he doesn’t want to take any risks.

Kylo chokes him to death within a week. No one else appears to replace him.

Kylo is even angrier with Hux now, though he knows _because everyone else is useless_ is not a good reason. He’s done letting this go. He storms to Hux’s quarters, finds them empty, redirects to medbay to ask where Hux went when he was released.

It turns out he didn’t go anywhere. He’s still in medbay.

When Hux sees Kylo he tries to get up, then seems to remember something and settles back down in the bed. “Supreme Leader,” he says. “Are you well? Were you harmed?”

“I’m fine, no thanks to you,” Kylo sneers.

Hux seems to flinch a little, but then his face goes blank. “I’m glad to hear it, Supreme Leader,” he says.

Kylo huffs. “Why are you still in bed?”

Hux’s lips turn down. “I’m told if I move now, I won’t make a full recovery.”

Kylo narrows his eyes. “I didn’t realize you were so weak.”

Hux’s face goes blank again. “Only human, I suppose, Supreme Leader. I assure you, I will be back to my duties as soon as I am released.”

This is unacceptable, and there isn’t anything Kylo can do about it, which is even more unacceptable. He grabs the nearest object and hurls it into the wall with a yell.

“Supreme Leader,” Hux says, and now there’s a thread of impatience in his voice, “could you order me a new datapad when you leave? When were you planning on leaving, by the way?”

Kylo whirls on his heel and stalks out, tromping over the broken pieces of what had, apparently, been Hux’s datapad.

Hux can get his own replacement. Kylo doesn’t need to do it. Why should he?

Kylo paces the Finalizer, unsettled, for nearly an hour before he finally punches in the order at the nearest console.

~

Going to the mess has felt off all week, and now Kylo realizes with a scowl that it’s because Hux isn’t there. He picks at his meal until finally abandoning it, leaving most of it untouched. Then he stalks the corridors, not really noticing where he’s going until he realizes he’s stormed straight to medbay.

Fine. Whatever. He’ll go in.

Hux is eating when Kylo barrels into his room. He pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth. His cheeks look pink. “Good evening, Supreme Leader.”

“Get your datapad all right?” Kylo asks, voice coming out surly. He looks at the wall.

“Yes, Supreme Leader. Thank you.”

Kylo stares at the wall until Hux coughs, then he looks at him again. His fork is still suspended in midair. “Keep eating,” he grunts, waving a hand.

“So you _can_ take hints,” Hux says, and then he puts the bite in his mouth.

“I’m not stupid,” Kylo says, stupidly.

Gratifyingly, Hux chokes on his bite. Kylo watches the coughing fit with his arms crossed, a smirk on his face. When he finally recovers, Hux glares plasma bolts at Kylo. “Did you want something, Supreme Leader?”

“Dinner,” Kylo says. He plucks the bread off Hux’s dinner tray.

Hux watches indignantly as Kylo eats most of his dinner. “I hope you’re enjoying that?” he asks, voice flat.

“Yup,” Kylo says.

“With respect, Supreme Leader,” Hux says, without any respect at all, “I will recover more quickly if I am allowed to replenish my nutrients. By eating my dinner.”

Kylo cocks his head to the side, then pulls off his right glove. Hux’s nose scrunches a little. It’s not an expression Kylo has ever seen on Hux’s face before. It’s not his usual look of distaste. He’s not sure what it is.

Kylo drags his pointer finger through the mashed veg rations on Hux’s plate, watches Hux stare as he extends the finger toward him. “What—” Hux starts to say, and then Kylo sticks the finger in his mouth.

He’s not sure why he does it, really. He’s in a better mood than he’s been in days. It seems like the thing to do.

He expects Hux to bite him.

Hux doesn’t.

Hux’s lips close around Kylo’s finger. He raises his eyes from Kylo’s hand to his face. Kylo’s finger is engulfed in warmth and wetness and he’s not sure what he thought this would be like but this isn’t it. This is something else.

And then—Hux’s tongue.

Hux’s tongue is sliding against his finger.

Hux’s tongue is _curling around_ his finger.

Hux’s face is flushed red as Kylo’s lightsaber. He’s staring at Kylo as if daring him to...do something. Kylo has no idea what.

Kylo doesn’t have much of idea about anything right now.

And _then_ Hux starts _sucking_ , and something hot and dangerous shoots through Kylo from head to foot, leaving behind lightheadedness and a heavy throbbing between his legs. He staggers back; his finger slides loose.

He stares at it. Hux has licked and sucked it clean.

“I don’t think that was quite enough nutrients, Supreme Leader,” Hux says. He’s breathless and still red in the face. His fingers are curled into his bedsheets.

Kylo looks at Hux. His finger feels strange. Cold. Bereft, somehow. Hux is watching him intently, fists still tight. His lips part just enough to allow his tongue to sweep between them, quick, pink. Kylo stares as it disappears again.

He lurches forward. Stabs his finger into the mush on Hux’s tray. Swipes it around until he’s built up a good glob.

Hux opens his mouth. His tongue stretches out, just past his full lower lip. His eyes haven’t left Kylo’s face.

This time, Kylo lays his finger right on Hux’s tongue, then drags it slowly all the way down, holding his jaw open, watching Hux’s tongue slide against him. Hux curls his tongue when Kylo gets to the end, flicking over the tip of Kylo’s finger.

Hux only closes his mouth long enough to swallow the mash. Then he’s open again, waiting. Expectant.

Part of Kylo is angry that Hux would dare to presume. But Hux has always dared, hasn’t he? There’s another feeling, far stronger. Kylo can only describe it as intoxication.

He wants to put his fingers in Hux’s mouth. He wants to put everything in Hux’s mouth.

He’s breathing hard, he realizes. He’s bending closer. He’s scrabbling at the tray, but there’s barely anything left on it.

Hux is letting go of the bedsheets, reaching up to Kylo’s shoulders. His mouth is still open.

Kylo can’t think. He can barely breathe. Hux’s hands are on him—bare, no gloves. Hux’s mouth is still open. Kylo is bending closer. The heat of Hux’s breath is washing over his lips, bidding them to part, and they do.

Kylo surges forward and fills Hux’s mouth with his tongue.

The sound Hux makes is incredible, like a gasp and a sob and a cry all at once. Like relief so intense it can’t be expressed. Hux is trembling, pawing at him, making longing noises into Kylo’s mouth as though this isn’t close enough, as though he can’t bear it.

Kylo’s hands come up to clutch Hux’s head, fingers digging into his hair. He devours Hux thoroughly, claims his mouth, his tongue, his lips. He bites hard enough to bruise and sucks and licks and pants and holds Hux in place, and Hux doesn’t move, doesn’t fight, just surrenders.

When Kylo draws back to look at him, Hux’s eyes are glittering. His lips are red and fat from kissing and his cheeks are pink and those are tears. Hux is crying.

Kylo leans in, licks a long path up Hux’s cheek to taste his tears. He feels heady. Powerful. Hux trembles on the bed beneath him, clinging to his shoulders.

Kylo wonders if he has finally broken Hux, beaten him down after all these years. He feints forward, as if to kiss Hux again; Hux closes his eyes and more tears roll down his cheeks. “What do you want, Hux?” Kylo whispers against Hux’s lips. “Tell me.”

“No,” Hux says, surprising him, voice thick.

“Tell me,” Kylo demands, brushing his lips over Hux’s mouth.

“I can’t,” Hux says, shaking with quiet sobs. 

“You want me to stop,” Kylo guesses.

“No!”

The vehemence of the denial is startling. Kylo wants to force him to explain.

Kylo also wants to kiss him again.

Hux doesn’t want him to stop; therefore, kissing him again would be rewarding him. Kylo doesn’t want to reward Hux. He’s angry with Hux.

Isn’t he?

Kylo doesn’t want to stop. And Kylo is Supreme Leader now. He can do whatever he wants.

Kylo kisses Hux again.

The surreality of it strikes him this time, the fact that he’s kissing General Hux—he certainly didn’t come here expecting this to happen, and he’s not quite sure how it did. Hux, the rabid cur Snoke favored to torment Kylo. Hux, the vicious squig who had to be kept close.

Hux, whose constant presence is now familiar. Hux, who is, objectively, beautiful—a fact Kylo has kept far from his thoughts but cannot possibly ignore now, not while he’s kissing that soft, plush mouth.

Hux, who is always at his side. Hux, who has never feared him. Hux, who has never been derelict in his duty until now—

“You were protecting me,” Kylo says, breaking away from the kiss. “When you—when—this.”

Hux laughs. It’s tinged with bitterness and a touch of hysteria.

“You always protect me,” Kylo realizes. “You’ve always protected me.”

And for the first time Kylo can remember, Hux looks afraid.

The truth hits Kylo like a shockwave. He steps back from the bed. “You—” he starts.

“No,” Hux says quickly. “I don’t.”

“You do,” Kylo says. “You do.”

Hux should hate Kylo, the way Kylo has always hated Hux.

“You’re supposed to hate me,” Kylo says.

“I do,” Hux says. His eyes are glittering again.

“I don’t hate you,” Kylo lies. “You’re not worth hating.”

“I know,” Hux says. He turns his face away. “Will that be all, Supreme Leader?”

Kylo’s hands clench into fists at his sides. He wants to throw something. Maybe Hux. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?” he grits out. What he means is, _When will you be well enough for me to hurt you?_

Hux looks back at him. His face is calm again; the tear tracks look strange, like they don't belong. “There were quite a few internal injuries,” he says, voice level. “Bacta can only do so much. When I return to duty, I won't have full range of motion at first.”

His eyes flick away from Kylo’s, so briefly it’s barely noticeable. “It would be inadvisable for me to be in physically demanding situations. Perhaps take Phasma, if you must see action during my recovery?”

“That’s not—” Kylo starts, then stops. Why does he care whether Hux is recovered? Hux is his, along with the rest of the First Order, and if he wants to hurl him into a wall he can do it regardless of the circumstances.

Kylo opens his right hand, starts to raise it. Hux watches, not flinching. His eyes look dull. They were bright before, weirdly green and sparkling with tears, but now they're flat. Empty.

Kylo will feel better if he hurls Hux into the wall. Won't he?

Letting out a frustrated grunt, Kylo thrusts his hand back down to his side.

Hux’s eyes widen, just slightly. Just slightly, they're brighter. Kylo wonders if he’ll cry again, but his eyes remain red and dry.

“You’d do it if I wasn’t injured,” Hux says finally.

Kylo nods.

“Just get it over with.”

Kylo doesn't understand this Hux. This wounded creature, alluring, taunting, warning Kylo against harming him in one breath and inviting him to do it in the next. Maybe what he said before wasn’t a warning. Maybe it was just information. Maybe it was purely about duty, not Kylo.

Hux knows Kylo can do whatever he wants. He’s accepted it.

It’s the hollowest victory Kylo can remember.

“You want me to hurt you?” he asks, to confirm.

“I am yours to do with as you please, Supreme Leader.” As soon as the words are out of his mouth Hux freezes, face white.

Kylo sweeps back to the bed, leaning over Hux. “That’s not what I asked, General.”

“I don't understand,” Hux says, staring up at him, mouth hard.

“I asked what you want,” Kylo reminds him, seething. “Not what you will accept.”

Hux’s jaw tightens. “I would rather not be injured, in general. If I am injured in the course of my duty, however, so be it, because my greater interest is the First Order.”

The words make sense. They mirror Kylo’s own understanding of how the relationship between a supreme leader and his subordinates should be. Kylo is probably thinking too hard about this. He wants Hux to return to duty well enough to continue to perform. That’s all.

Except it made more sense when Hux hated him. Like Kylo hated Snoke. Kylo killed Snoke because he hated him, and because he was better than Snoke. Hux should logically try to kill Kylo, and fail because he isn't Kylo’s better. But that’s not what’s happening.

“You don’t want to be injured,” Kylo concludes. “But what _do_ you want?” He’s still leaning over Hux, watching his face twitch.

“What I want is irrelevant,” Hux says. He sounds irritated. Then he looks away. “I want the First Order to bring stability to the galaxy.”

“I don’t care about that,” Kylo huffs. He hastens to add, “Of course you want us to succeed. That’s not in question.”

Hux looks back at him. There’s a small flare of surprise in his eyes that subsides quickly. He says nothing.

"I want to know what you _want_ ,” Kylo says.

"It’s irrelevant,” Hux insists. “If I deserve it, I'll get it eventually. If I don't, I won't.” He looks away again, a scowl spreading across his face. Apparently he said more than he meant to.

Kylo fights a smile. “You're so fussy.”

Hux’s eyes snap to his. “I beg your pardon.”

“You. Are. Fussy,” Kylo says, bending so low his nose touches Hux’s.

Hux swallows. “Supreme Leader,” he says, but his breath is hot against Kylo’s lips, again, and Kylo is compelled to taste Hux’s mouth, again.

So he does.

It sounds like Hux is trying to say something, but all Kylo hears is muffled nonsense as he bites and sucks at Hux’s lips. Hux’s hands come up to Kylo’s head this time, fisting clumps of hair in a way that makes Kylo’s scalp tingle. He tugs and Kylo growls, pleased.

Hux tugs harder, yanking Kylo away from his mouth, and gasps out, “What do _you_ want, Ren?”

He hasn’t called Kylo ‘Ren’ since the throne room. A lifetime ago. Kylo grins, feeling manic. “This,” he says. He’s not sure what ‘this’ is.

Hux’s face goes slack, then twists up in a scowl. “To torture me?” he asks. “Throwing me around the room and choking me isn’t enough, now you have to do _this_?” The pitch of his voice goes higher. “I’ve been nothing but loyal—”

“Silence,” Kylo says, frowning. ‘This’ apparently isn’t torture, because he’s not enjoying it at all. “No,” Kylo says as Hux glares at him. “I want you to call me Ren,” he says, because that’s the only thing he knows for sure.

“Ren,” Hux hisses at him.

“Good,” Kylo says. “Now tell me what you want.”

Hux is furious now. “I want you to stop pretending you care about anything but yourself. You’re not doing a very good job. I want things to go back to normal. I’ll be well soon enough. I want you to never kiss me again.”

Kylo doesn’t like that. “I care about the First Order.”

“Only insofar as it helps you achieve your personal goals,” Hux spits. “You don’t believe in our mission. You believe in _your_ mission.”

“Why can’t I kiss you?” Kylo demands, belatedly realizing he’s letting Hux refuse.

“You don’t even deny it,” Hux huffs.

“Why can’t I kiss you?” Kylo presses. Their mouths are still so close. Hux’s hands are still fisted in his hair.

“Because,” Hux seethes, “you don’t love me.”

He’s practically admitted it now. It’s what Kylo wanted. Kylo’s won. The fact settles sourly in his stomach. He reaches up to untangle Hux’s fingers from his hair, straightens and steps back. “If I loved you, I could kiss you?” he asks, watching Hux’s face.

Hux crosses his arms and looks away. “Yes, Supreme Leader,” he says.

“Ren,” Kylo says.

“It’s against regulation to—”

“Ren.”

Hux turns back to him and says “Ren” with more venom than Kylo has ever heard him say it before...which is impressive.

Kylo leaves medbay feeling unsettled and unsatisfied.

Hux is back to work in a matter of days, though he’s forced to wear a brace to keep him from twisting at the waist. Kylo wants to make fun of it the first time he sees it. He opens his mouth, and there on the bridge in front of everyone Hux says, “Shut up, Ren.”

Kylo, inexplicably, closes his mouth.

Later that same day, Lt. Mitaka calls Kylo ‘Ren’ instead of ‘Supreme Leader.’ Kylo flings him into a wall. Word spreads quickly that only General Hux is allowed to call Supreme Leader Kylo Ren ‘Ren.’

Kylo feels an odd sort of elation at the idea that he’s set his first new law as supreme leader.

For his part, Hux seems to be enjoying his privilege; he tacks ‘Ren’ onto his statements even more than he used to say ‘Supreme Leader.’ And where ‘Supreme Leader’ always carried an undertone of insubordination, over time ‘Ren’ becomes almost conversational.

Hux takes his meals in the mess, with Kylo, as before. They talk about logistics and stormtrooper training and the Order’s next move. Sometimes Kylo smiles. Sometimes Hux smiles.

~

Hux has been out of his brace for some time. Fully recovered, he says. His stride is strong and purposeful when he stalks the corridors or sweeps down the command platform on the bridge. He’s still pale, but it looks different now. Like he’s heartier. Less sickly.

(His lips are pink, and sometimes so too are his cheeks. His eyes are bright and sharp. He has a remarkable face, sculpted cheekbones arrowing toward his mouth, smoothly curved jaw and chin. His hair is fire and his eyelashes are gold.

(Kylo hasn’t seen his bare hands since medbay.)

They go on-planet for the first time since Hux was injured. It’s a peacekeeping mission; they put down a pathetic little uprising, then level a city to underscore the point. Hux is giving a speech to the surviving populace when it happens.

A lone terrorist, missed somehow in the cleanup, starts firing at the stage. Blaster bolts sizzle through the air. There’s screaming. Hux’s captain and the other attending dignitaries dive for the ground.

Hux charges to Kylo and places his body between him and the terrorist.

Kylo remembers, suddenly, the circumstances of Hux’s injury. The one that laid him out for a week and disabled him for a month. The one that left him lying in the dirt in a growing puddle of his own blood.

It was the same as this. Hux had taken an attack meant for Kylo.

Kylo grabs Hux roughly, shoves him back. Extends his hand and freezes every last incoming blaster bolt, and the terrorist besides. Holds it all until the stormtroopers have terminated the threat. “Duck,” he says, and he crouches along with Hux before releasing the shots.

When the blaster fire is gone, burned into the platform behind them, Kylo takes Hux by the elbow to help him to his feet. Hux rises slowly, eyes locked on Kylo’s.

“Hux,” Kylo says, not releasing Hux’s arm.

“Ren,” Hux answers, not attempting to pull his arm away.

“Thank you,” Kylo says.

Hux stares at Kylo. He blinks. His tongue peeks out to wet his lips. “You saved _me_ ,” he finally says.

“No,” Kylo says. “I wouldn’t be here if not for you.”

Hux’s eyes cut away. “It’s nothing to thank me for. It’s my duty.”

“Then why did no one else attempt to protect me?” Kylo asks. The other, irrelevant First Order officers shuffle and murmur nervously; Kylo ignores them.

Hux glances back at Kylo. “Shut up, Ren,” he says quietly.

“No,” Kylo says. “Did you know you’re beautiful, Hux?”

“What?” Hux gapes at him.

“Beautiful,” Kylo repeats.

Hux takes a breath. “Did you know you’re impossible, Ren?”

“I’m aware,” Kylo says. This makes Hux smile, and it’s the best thing Kylo has ever seen. He doesn’t know what to do with himself; his chest is light and his hands yearn to do something, though he’s not sure what. He clutches at Hux’s elbow and opens and closes his other fist.

“You said,” Kylo begins, and his stomach flip-flops. He swallows and tries again. “You said I couldn’t kiss you because I don’t love you.”

Hux’s face falls a bit. “That’s right.”

Kylo chews on his lips. “What if—what if I _do_ love you?”

Hux’s hands fist at his sides. He shifts his shoulders and raises his head. “If you love me, you may kiss me,” he says. There’s a dangerous look in his eyes, like he’s expecting betrayal and he’s ready to retaliate. Kylo remembers the monomolecular blade up his sleeve.

“If I ever hurt you again,” Kylo says, “slit my throat.” And then he tugs Hux forward, slides his free hand around the back of Hux’s neck, and finds Hux’s mouth with his own.

Hux makes a startled noise that shifts into a groan. He grabs Kylo’s head with both hands and kisses him back, hard. Kylo reels, works to match him. Hux bites at Kylo’s lips and tongue, sucks, kisses like he’s ravenous.

Kylo lets go of Hux’s elbow and wraps his arm around Hux’s shoulders, pulling his body close. He’s hard and he lets Hux know it, shifting his hips forward against Hux’s. Hux groans again and slides his hands back through Kylo’s hair.

Eventually Kylo becomes aware of a voice. “Sir. Supreme Leader. General. Sir.” He breaks away from Hux reluctantly, almost violently, and snarls, “What?”

Captain Peavey coughs and nods toward the crowd.

Kylo’s breath is coming hard and his head is spinning and this is the last thing he cares about. “Dismissed,” he yells, and then he picks a squawking Hux up in a bridal carry and stalks off the stage.

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning: This fic is from Kylo's point of view, and at least at first Kylo sees nothing wrong with his canonical abuse of Hux.


End file.
